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The brightly colored large tacks that hold up my French prints have been falling off mysteriously. I’m not sure as to why exactly. They’ve been on the walls months. It’s only been starting recently.

Perhaps gravity is setting in and the weight is pulling on them.

Perhaps it’s something else entirely.

But when another tack and picture fell he instinctively went to fix it.

My room is still in shambles from the Holiday activities. You didn’t think that just because I’ve been off the radar meant I’d become a nun did you?

It had been a romantic evening. Dinner and then a moonlit walk on the pier. It hadn’t been completely perfect, but it was damn near that way.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. After everything with Mr Parker.. of saying my goodbyes and throwing pennies to the air on New Years.

Polyamory.

Sometimes it’s.. not the greatest experience for my lovers, specifically for him.

We were about to lay in bed. We looked up. He noticed the line print fall. It was the second one to fall this week. He went to fix it. I told him not to worry about it. He was trying to be a gentleman.

Disastrous.

He fished around the clothes near the side of the bed looking for the brightly colored tack. He didn’t find it.

He found something else.

That.

And there was a moment of silence as he picked it up off the floor and looked up at me.

“I always get up afterwards and go to the bathroom.”

I couln’t breathe. For a moment there, despite my honesty, I was worried that I’d blown it.

Last night’s agenda? Messed up by comic book day. I have to remember to just not schedule anything on a Wednesday ever again. It’s been the same routine every Wednesday for a few weeks now. I will have something planned later in the night, and it will never happen. So just a memo to everyone out there, consider Wednesdays booked until further notice.

I asked the grip to take my car in for an oil change when I was at work. He left late and got stuck in traffic. He met me out by work at a place nearby to do it, but they didn’t have the filter.

So off to home and the comic shop.

He had this grey trenchcoat and a green Multiple Man tshirt on. I wasn’t sure which toon he reminded me of, but I couldn’t get over the deja vu.

We got back to my place and he pulled out a flash drive. I got caught up with Walking dead and was reading the singles last night. I feel ripped off. I’ve only read it in trades so far and if I didn’t have 6 issues to read in a sitting, I would have felt blue balled.. well if I had balls.

He came back with comics. Everything that had happened the night before seemed to drop away to nothing. Tales of zombies, foul language and irreverancy. Tales that keep me going through the days.

Everything faded to the background. Nothing else mattered. But he had to leave again after. I was bummed, but it was the way of things.

Entrances and exits.

He lights the stage and disappears. It’s his job. No wonder he does it so well.

I guess I’m easy to please… in some ways. All day yesterday I waited patiently. Impatiently. This weekend’s “plans” turned into a lot of me waiting around for him. I’d not gone out on

a date with a pornstar with “a little following”

drinks with friends

date 3 at “our bar”

etcetera etcetera

Priorities…

Well, time is a priority. This weekend will not occur again. He was warned. Nay, instructed. He apologized emphatically.

When he finally came by, it was another comic book.. and handcuffs. Add some hot wax, and well, all was forgiven if only for a moment.

A school girl outfit.

Pigtails.

Hands pinned down

He was to be punished. Only to watch. Temptation at its finest.

The next time we go to a sex shop- as we did this weekend-there are more rations to be bought. A checklist of sorts. My vanity feels a bit empty with what’s in there currently. The ropes bid company beyond those vials of decadent pleasures.

And something else. Midst all of this, we talked about home. How I missed San Diego… let’s just say..

There was an email sent to us at work “Take off 9am-11am and get paid if you are going to vote.”

The issues.. Prop 8, Prop 2, Prop K (I wish I lived in San Francisco to vote on it), and of course the Presidential election.

I remember the words of my dad circa the Primaries “I doubt you’re even going to vote.”
The polls show what looks to be a landslide in favor of Obama. The main reason to vote.. So if it’s already a given, why bother?

And then there’s the promotions… Ben & Jerrys, Starbucks, cookies here, a drink at the Edison.
Suddenly the idea sounds a bit better right?

The devils advocate would say: no one would know either way. I mean, it’s against the law for them to ask for that “I voted sticker” in exchange for goods. You could theoretically get the sticker itself from a local drug store or borrow your friends.

One motivating factor trumped them all.. this button passed along on tumblr a week ago..

So as I prep to get ready to walk to the polls.. the naughty notion just dances through my mind. My polling place is at a school down the street. How to dress.. the right skirt.. the glasses.. do I make a phone call or replay the last scene of Choke?

Hmmm… anonymous voting.

We shall see.. we shall see…
Oh and if you’re going to be at the Edison later for the Causecast/LAist party… I shall see you there tnite my friends. To celebrate the changes that are underway for our country.. and gather round with the like minded people who took the time out of their day motivated by the things that really matter and not just the hype and fluff of corporate promotions (which I fully intend to take advantage of too, don’t kid yourself).
Rock the vote everyone.
And now to get ready to go the polls.. apparently my polling place is a madhouse

Why? Because lets be frank, I want to test the ride before I even dare commit to saying “Why yes this is what I’m going to do with the rest of my life” regardless if I’m in an open or poly relationship. For me, sex is an absolute must.

It’s not the only thing that makes the relationship, but its a part of communication which i feel is integral to a relationship that is anything more than platonic.

Because let’s face it. Talk is cheap.

If its that you’re not interested in exploring a sexual relationship, fine. Be my friend. But don’t waste my time and think you will be my lover.

While yes, you can argue that there’s much that can be done without the act of penetration that is still quite enjoyable, it is the means to an end that simply begs to be fullfilled.

I’ll be a bitch and say it- women get “blue balls” too. About a month ago I was getting really involved with a gentleman. He starts going down on me and suddenly had to go. He was there on a break from work and we didn’t plan on it going that far initially. It sucked. I went out for drinks with another friend of mine. I bitched about it. It was a tease of the vagina sort.

If I am in a relationship with someone, and get more action out of my sex toy than I do out of my significant, there’s a huge problem. That person obviously doesn’t find something about my significant. Hell with some of the jerks I’ve dated, the only thing semi significant is the sex anyway. To be exclusive with me you’re going to have to put out. It’s a hardship I know.

So potentials… put out or pass please. I’m only interested in a lover that wants the whole me- and that includes the sexual chemistry. I’ll still respect your morals or at least do the best I can (if you are interested in Scientology for example though, I will um.. try not to laugh at you if I even entertain bedding you).

Selfish selfish me I suppose. I crave to be satisfied.

And now since my roommate is gone, I’m off to have even louder orgasms than I usually allow myself out of courtesy (oh and well being gagged).

I’ve got needs, lots of them. Yes, I need to get railed not only regular but frequent basis. Everyday… multiple times a day. Specifically when I’m involved. Think you’re up for the task?

Enter my newest boy toy… he’s a cute nerdy type whose day job is a grip for Fox. He works 12+ hours a day with some major shortage of days off during the peak season. He doesn’t want to share me. For a poly, this is…

So on days when the boy is working and what not, I do threaten to go off and get it elsewhere. Is it assinine? Yes, admittedly so.

Before I left for San Francisco for example (before we became official) I told him-

“While I’m up there fucking someone else, I want you to remember… that it’s nothing to do with how I feel about you. In fact, you should feel better about it because all it really is would be friends/sex.”

“So I should feel lucky that I’m not getting lucky… Check”

It’s no secret that I enjoy my dating and sexual romps.

A friend of mine messaged me last night and asked

“How are you temptress?”

Funny.. he had no clue that’s the latest nickname that people have given me.

I’m safe about my sex and am actually selective on whom I bed. A friend once summed it up perfectly:

“Poly means quantity, not all.”

Something that a lot of people may not realize: I am tantric in between lovers. It’s probably why my sex drive is so high when I’m involved. I do not even own a sex toy.

The grip tells me that he doesn’t want to hold me back, and that I should be free to do whatever I like. While I know this is a guilt trip, I also remind him of the poly status.

“Don’t tell me stuff like that unless you mean it.. because I will go get it elsewhere if I don’t get it from you dear..”

“It’s a tax write-off..”

He was supposed to have the day off today. Instead he’s helping a friend out with Deal or No Deal. There’s a cute musician down the street from me… working remotely wondering what I’m up to.

I am about to call Tmobile to tell them that for some reason the MMS messages I’ve sent over the past week have not gone through. Very important ones. Ahem.

My initial reaction was to accuse said person’s cell phone network for the issue. “Can you hear me now?” Hear this Verizon… what the fuck is up with my man not getting his deserved nudies?

I recruited a trusted friend to try and help me out… to forward the picture to him if it went through.

Status? Lost in cyberspace of course.

Recovering from my 3 days up nearly nonstop at Tc50, damn me if I wanted a little naughty time. He had to work yesterday. I persuaded him to take a late “nooner” and get over here. He’s still working now. Ah the joys of having a Hollywood non 9-5, 9-5 right?

Damned messages not going through. Though I honestly doubt that it would hinder my bedroom antics… I have readily accessible cock via other means and I haven’t even looked on Craigslist.

I’d just like to take this moment though to rant about my “wonderful” service that’s supposedly the best in California. Yeah… my ass! Or actually.. not. Boo!(

Maybe I really will look at joining the iprom now that I have it sitting there calling my name. I’m just worried about the minutes.. which heh, if I didn’t have would just hinder my sex life xs 2.